Read Forgiving Hearts: Duncurra 1-3 Online
Authors: Ceci Giltenan
It had been an unusually hot summer, or so Katherine thought. Perhaps she only felt it more keenly because she was heavy with child, but this August morning felt particularly stifling. Hot and edgy, she hadn’t slept well that night, waking up often with her back aching. She must have worked too hard the previous day, she reasoned. After the fitful night, she woke earlier than usual, tired and with her back still sore. She tried to do the things she normally did, but had trouble focusing on even the simplest task. Finally, she gave up and walked out of the keep and across the courtyard. She reached the wall circling the steep crag and looked out across Loch Craos. The water glittered in the bright morning sun. It looked cool and refreshing, and right then she wanted nothing more than to take a swim in it, or at least to wade at its edge.
She decided she would find Niall and ask him to go with her when a pain gripped her, taking her breath away. She braced herself against the wall with one hand and put the other on her swollen belly. It felt rock hard. After a minute or so the pain receded. Maybe she wouldn’t go swimming, she thought. Instead, she decided she would walk down to the village and find Effie. She hadn’t walked very far when another pain gripped her, forcing her to stop once again and hold onto the wall of a nearby cottage.
After the second pain had receded, she decided it might be better to return to the keep and send someone for Effie. Before she made it all the way back, yet another pain struck. She bent over, clutching her abdomen. She felt sweat beading on her face. She saw Father Colm step out of the chapel. He was at her side in an instant. He lifted her in his arms, carried her into the keep, and began shouting orders. Katherine smiled briefly, thinking the old priest sounded much like Niall at that moment. Her smile disappeared when yet another pain gripped her.
Within minutes, Edna had Katherine settled in bed and someone had gone to fetch Effie. When she arrived, Effie asked, “Why did ye not call me sooner, my lady?”
“The pains only just started a little while ago,” said Katherine.
“Ye’ve had no other pain?” asked Effie, looking worried.
“Well, I wouldn’t say I’ve had no other pain,” snapped Katherine. “My back has hurt since last night, but I have only had a few birthing pains.”
Effie relaxed and smiled. “My lady, it is likely ye have been in labor since last night. Birthing pains for some women begin as a back ache.”
Even well into labor, several hours passed before the bairn made her appearance. When she did, Katherine suspected the whole castle could hear her lusty cries. Effie allowed Niall into the room after she had bathed the lady and tucked her into a clean bed, holding her sleeping baby in her arms. Clearly in awe of his tiny daughter, Niall looked almost frightened.
“Would ye like to hold her,” asked Katherine, lifting the swaddled bundle to him.
“Nay, I might break her.”
“Nonsense,” said Katherine, “take her.”
He gingerly took the bairn in his huge hands. She nearly fit in the palm of one hand and he cradled her head in the other. She began to squirm and fuss a little. He jiggled her gently and said, “Wheesht, lass.” She settled and Niall grinned, looking overly pleased with himself.
He still held her some time later when a quiet knock came at the door. Katherine called, “Come in,” and Tomas slipped into the room.
“Come see your new sister,” Niall said. Tomas came cautiously forward and stood by Niall.
“She’s just a wee thing,” said Tomas, sounding surprised. “By the noise she was making, I thought she’d be bigger.”
Katherine chuckled and Niall winked at her. “It’s the wee ones ye have to be careful of, lad.”
Tomas wasn’t sure what his parents were laughing at, so he ignored it and asked, “Does she have a name?”
“Not yet,” said Katherine.
“Can we name her Mab?”
“Mab is your pony’s name,” said Niall.
“I know,” said Tomas. “I like that name.”
“Well, maybe since ye have already given it to your pony, we can pick another name for your sister,” said Katherine gently. “What do ye think about the name Beitris? It was your grandmother’s name.”
Tomas said the name a couple of times, then announced, “Well, it isn’t as nice as Mab, but since Mab is taken, Beitris is pretty good.”
“Beitris it is, then,” said Niall, smiling. He leaned over and kissed Katherine on the cheek. He whispered, “I love ye verra much. Ye will never know how happy I am ye chose me instead of the convent.”
Highland Courage – Inspirational Version
Duncurra Inspirationals - Book 2
By
Ceci Giltenan
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.
Duncurra LLC
www.duncurra.com
Copyright 2014 by Ceci Giltenan
To my husband and children, who make my life whole--You mean the world to me.
To my beta readers, Ann, Rhonda, Barb and Suzan—a heart-felt thank you for your time and wonderful suggestions. Highland Courage is better because of you.
To my dear friends and sisters in heart, The Guardians of Cridhe—I will never be able to thank you enough for your kindness and support over this rocky road. I feel incredibly blessed to have you and your combined magic in my life.
Brigid | Brig ID |
Cael | KAH el |
Carraigile | Kah rah GEEL |
Cathal | KAH hul |
Cnocreidh | Kuhrock RAY |
Currancreag | KOO ran kreeg |
Duncurra | Doon KOO rah |
Mairead | mah RAID |
Miach | MEE ock |
Neacel | NEE uh kul |
Tadhg | TIEg |
Seoras | SHEOR us |
Sine | SHEE na |
Wynne | WIN |
Bairn | (BAIRn) A baby |
Brèid | (BREEdt) Also called a kertch, this is a square of pure white linen that is folded in half and worn by married women to cover their hair. It is a symbol of the Holy Trinity, under whose guidance the married woman walks. |
Gob | Mouth |
Léine | (LAY in ah) A full tunic-like garment. A woman’s |
Wheesht | Hush, shhh |
“Courage does not always roar, sometimes it is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying,
‘I will try again tomorrow.’”
~
Mary Ann Radmacher
Her father looked bewildered. “Mairead, don’t ye want to be married? Look at how happy yer sisters are. Ye love yer nieces and nephews. Don’t ye want to be a mother?” Cathal MacKenzie had tried for years to make a match his youngest daughter would accept. Now she suspected his patience was at an end, and he would no longer wait for her approval. Her father had arranged strategically sound marriages for his six oldest children, and they all seemed to be very happy. “Da, I do love the children, but with eight living here and three more when Annag and Hogan visit, why does anything need to change? I’m happy with things the way they are.”
Her mother, Brigid, tried reasoning with her. “Mairead, my sweet lass, things can’t stay as they are forever. I know ye don’t want to live the religious life. Ye would miss yer family too much, and I couldn’t bear to think of ye locked up in a cloister. Please, dear one, it is time ye were married.”
“Why, Mama? Why can’t I just stay here?”
Mairead desperately wanted to avoid the discussion of marriage, but the look of pity in her mother’s eyes spoke volumes. Mairead fought to hold back her tears. She hadn’t cried in seven years, and she wouldn’t start now. Mairead pleaded silently for her mother to intervene, to tell her she never had to marry or leave home if she chose not to. Perhaps sensing his wife’s resolve waver, her father answered, “I’m sorry, Mairead, but that is not an option. Ye are well past the age when most lasses marry.” Mairead started to argue, but her father put up his hand to stop her. “Nay, lass. No more. We will arrange a betrothal for ye when we attend the Michaelmas Festival at the end of this month.”
“Nay, Da, please...” Terrified, her voice broke, and she couldn’t say more.
Her father’s countenance softened. “Come with us, sweetling. Ye haven’t been for years, and ye used to love it so. We will find ye a new instrument to conquer and ye can meet the young men we are considering. We’ll take yer wishes into account if we can, love.”
“I don’t want to go, Da, and I don’t want to get married yet!” Again, she had to blink rapidly to keep the tears from slipping freely down her cheeks.
“What are ye afraid of?” demanded her father.
“I’m not—afraid,” she snapped, her voice catching with a sob.
Now her father’s eyes mirrored the pity she had seen in her mother’s. “The choice to go to the festival or not is yers, Mairead, but we will arrange a betrothal for ye and ye will be married. Soon.”
“Aye, Da,” she whispered and left her parents’ solar. Mairead wanted to retreat unseen to her chamber, but escaping unnoticed was nearly impossible at Carraigile. All of her siblings and their families lived in the MacKenzie stronghold except her sister Annag, who was married to the laird of Clan MacBain, and her little brother Flan, who had just begun his training as squire for Laird Matheson. After leaving the solar, in order to reach the stairs leading to her chamber, she had to cross the great hall, and her siblings managed to corner her there.
Both Cathal and Brigid had lost their first spouses, and each had brought children to their marriage. Mairead was their first child together. She had been the baby of the family for years, until Flan was born, and in a way was the person who had firmly united both sets of children. They could all claim her as a sister. She grew up loved and adored by her siblings, but they could also overwhelm her.
“Mairead, go with us,” Rowan said. “We’re all going. It’ll be fun.”
“Ye aren’t all going,” countered Mairead. “Cullen and Marjean aren’t going.”
“That’s because of our new baby,” answered Cullen, “but everyone else is.”
Mairead crossed her arms and did her best to look defiant. “Lily and Rose aren’t going.” She looked pointedly at their twin sisters, Lilias and Rhoswen.
“I want to,” said Rhoswen, “but it is awfully hard to travel that far with a baby.” Her youngest was only a year-old and quite a handful.
“I’m only staying to keep Rose company. Both of our husbands are going,” said Lilias. Cullen rolled his eyes. Lily had given her an opening and Mairead seized it. “Then I will stay and keep ye both company.”
Peadar’s wife, Rhona, jumped to the rescue. “But then who will keep me company? I’ll be the only woman going if ye stay here.”
“That’s not true. Naveen is going.”
Gannon’s wife, Naveen, shook her head, “I am only going as far as my parents’ holding.”
“Well, Mother is going, and yer mother will be joining ye as well, Rhona,” countered Mairead.
Rhona pouted prettily. “That’s not the same as a sister.”
Mairead simply arched an eyebrow at her. Rhona had to know how weak that argument was; at least a score of other Chisholm clanswomen were going.
Mairead loved her family, but now they smothered her. She slowly edged away from them, saying, “Really, I'm sure it will be fun, but I want to stay here.”
Gannon tried. “Laird Matheson is going, so Flan will be there, too. Ye were just saying how much ye miss him.”
“Nay, Gannon. I can’t go.” She edged past him and rushed from the hall.
Peadar said, “Well that went well,” just before she left.
By the time she reached her chamber, her emotions were a jumble, and once again she had to fight back the tears. This was awful. Clearly, her family didn’t understand why this scared her so much. They couldn’t possibly understand it. She had never given them the opportunity to understand because she had never been able to tell them why. Perhaps she should have, but she hadn’t found the courage to tell them before and she wasn’t about to tell them tonight. She had to take hold of herself and find the strength to face this.
She sat by the hearth in her chamber with her head in her hands when a knock sounded at the door. Completely exasperated with her siblings, she yelled through the door, “Go away.”
Her brother Quinn ignored her and entered her bedchamber. “I can’t, Mairead. We need to talk about this.”
“Quinn, I know ye all mean well, but please leave me alone. I don’t want to go to the fair.”
“I know ye don’t want to go.” He leaned his back against the door, but his casual stance belied the serious expression on his face. “I want to know why.”
“I just don’t. Why can’t ye all accept that?”
He ignored her question. “Mairead, I’ve never talked with ye about it and maybe I should have, but I know something happened the last time ye went.”
She waved her hands in irritation. “Everyone knows something happened, Quinn. To quote Peadar, I was
colossally stupid
and wandered off with Flan.”
“Yes, everyone knows that. What I want to know is what happened when ye wandered off?”
“Ye know that already too. I lost Flan, then I found him, and that priest walked us back to camp.”
“Mairead, ye’re lying to me. I knew it then, and I know it now.”
Mairead couldn’t meet his gaze. “Go away, Quinn.”
“Ye changed seven years ago. Tell me what happened.” The urgent note in his voice was unmistakable as he crossed the room and crouched in front of her.
“I don’t know what ye are talking about. I didn’t change.” She slammed her fists against the arms of her chair in frustration.
“Ye did. I’m sure there are cloistered nuns who are more outgoing than ye are, Mairead.”
“And ye know a lot of cloistered nuns?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Nay, but it’s all nonsense anyway. I have always been...timid. MacKenzie’s Mouse, remember? I just like being at home.”
She hated the nickname “MacKenzie’s Mouse” and no one within the family used it. However, many people outside the family and clan did, although it was her appearance and not her temperament that initially gave rise to the name. Da’s children by his first wife were tall and blond with crystal blue eyes. Although her mother was petite, all Mama’s children from her first marriage were also tall—frankly, Peadar and Rowan were huge—and they all had Mother’s dark hair and dark brown eyes. Remarkably attractive, all eight of her older siblings turned heads. Even at four and ten, Flan was a head taller than most lads his age and already showed signs of having the dark good looks of Mama’s family, but with Da’s bright blue eyes. More like her mother, Mairead was smaller than her siblings, with light brown hair and pale grey eyes. She felt mousey in comparison. However, Quinn was right. She would never admit it to him, but something had changed seven years ago.
Quinn looked directly into her eyes. “Mairead, I know ye better than anyone. I know something bad happened to ye then, and ye have been hiding ever since. Da is getting ready to marry ye off, and I am worried for ye. For the love of God, lass, tell me what happened. No one can help ye if ye keep this locked away.”
“Go away, Quinn,” she whispered.
He sighed and shook his head in frustration. He rose and kissed the top of her head. “Ye can talk to me, Mairead. Ye can tell me when ye’re ready.” Then he turned and left her room.
She would never be ready. She couldn’t tell him. She couldn’t tell anyone. She wanted to keep it locked away.